Page 68 of Little Paper Games
I carried her straight to my room, stopping along the way to push her against the wall and ravish her lips again and again. She was intoxicating. When we reached my room, I laid her out on the bed I’d fucked her in so many times over these last weeks.
I looked down at her, splayed out on my bed, ready for me. This was different. This wasn’t the rushed exploration and needy fucking we’d been partaking in. She deserved care. Just as she’d deserved my care earlier in the bath. She deserved to be savored. Christ, did I want to savor her right now.
“Kenna.” I spoke her name softly as I moved over her. My kisses fell over her shoulders and up her neck, making my way to her lips slowly. I was in no hurry.
She tugged impatiently at the hem of her shirt.
“Please, Jude.” That one little plea had me on edge almost instantly. Naked. I needed her naked and beneath me. Our clothes came off in a less than graceful flurry, tossed around the room haphazardly. But it didn’t matter. She lay against my pillows, her soft curves pressing against my firm body.
“You are beautiful.” I kissed down her chest, bypassing her breasts completely. We always started there. It was time for a change. I kissed down her sternum, feeling her heart thump out a driving rhythm.
“You are so soft.” I kissed the bumps on her ribs and moved my way to her navel. Her giggled response had me smirking against her soft skin.
“You are sensual.” My nails lightly trailed up the outside of her thighs. She gasped and arched, showing that sensual movement that made me groan.
“You’re delicious.” I wasted no time finding her swollen clit with my tongue, spreading her thighs wide so I could drink my fill of her. Every moan, every gasp fueling the flames higher.
“Jude!” she cried out as the first orgasm washed over her.
“Again!” I rasped out against her lower lips, licking up every drop she gave me. My fingers slid inside of her, two of them pressing up and making her thighs shake. It was heady, and I felt the power fill me.
“Jude, yes! Please! I need you!” Her whimpering cries and little begging words made my cock drip.
“Kenna,” I breathed against the top of her pubic mound, kissing her there, in a place often missed. Her body was addictive. She was addictive. I didn’t care how crazy she made me, I felt something for her.
I settled between her thighs, nestled against her wet heat. Locking eyes together, I pressed into her, savoring that moment.
“You are exquisite,” I groaned, as she wrapped around me like a glove.
“Jude.” The low, almost lazy primal moan made my cock twitch inside her.
“Yes, Kenna.” My lips claimed hers, stealing her breath as I thrust inside her. We clung together as we kissed, as my body took hers and she gave over to me. I kissed her until she forgot whose air she was breathing.
When I felt the first vibrations of orgasm start, I pulled away.
“Look at me, Kenna,” I urged softly. “I need to see your eyes. Please.”
Her beautiful eyes opened and locked with mine. The eye contact was intimate and heady.
Her legs wrapped around my waist and her fingers pulled me into her as her orgasm began again, pulling my own from my body as we both shot into the stratosphere.
Once. Twice. She came again. Pure pleasure and need and… whatever this was between us. I held her close, her lips against my collarbone as we crashed back down to earth together, both breathless and smiling. Connected and happy.
The next morning came early. I woke to the morning light and a warm, curvy body snuggled in close beside me. We’d been up most of the night, coming together passionately, slowly. We’d taken time and explored each other. We barely spoke, letting our bodies convey what our mouths couldn’t yet, and that was okay.
I looked over at Kenna’s sleeping form, placing a kiss on her forehead, and made my way downstairs to make breakfast. The sizzling bacon and smell of coffee must have woken Kenna. I could hear her footsteps coming down the stairs.
“What is this?” she said sleepily, pulling a throw blanket around her body. She was wearing my tee-shirt, and I did my damnedest not to do a happy dance right there on the kitchen tile floor. I could not stop the small dance party in my head, though.
“Breakfast. Obviously,” I smirked at her, turning back to make her a cup of coffee.
“But why?” I turned, handing her the cup and gesturing to the counter where the ‘coffee fixings’ sat.
“What do you mean, why?” It’s 9:00 a.m. and it’s time for breakfast.” I looked at her quizzically, fixing both our plates and bringing them to the table.
“But why are you fixing me breakfast?” she reiterated. She was acting oddly.
“Why wouldn’t I?” I retorted, feeling a smidge defensive at her lack of appreciation. I didn’t need her to shower me with praise over it, but a general thank you would have been nice.
